


Horrible First Impression

by darnedchild



Series: Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2016 [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Douchecanoe Sebastian is a douchecanoe, F/M, Sherlock is not good at this sort of thing, Sherlolly - Freeform, Sherlolly Appreciation Week, Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 23:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6214606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darnedchild/pseuds/darnedchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short fic for Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2016 - Day Five (Non-Canon/ Head Canons - Teen!Lock or Uni!Lock). My first Uni!Lock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Horrible First Impression

“If you like the knickers you’re wearing, you may want to shove them in your bag once he’s got you out of them.”

Molly whirled around to face the only other person in the dorm common room. He was sitting in an open window, back against the frame, a burning cigarette in one long fingered hand. “I’m sorry?”

“Sebastian.” He tilted his head toward the corridor the other man had disappeared down a minute before. “He likes to keep trophies, panties in particular.” The man in the window sounded bored with the conversation already, which she thought strange as he was the one who started it.

“I’m not-That’s not why I’m here. Sebastian borrowed my notes from our Lit class. On Romantic verse. The test is coming up and he said he . . .” Molly trailed off as he raised a condescending brow at her and then turned his head to the window, clearly indicating he was done talking. She clutched her bag against her chest and tried not to fidget. There was absolutely no way he could know that she’d picked her outfit with care and brushed her hair until it shined, just in case Sebastian wanted to thank her with a cup of coffee or dinner or something.

He flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette and took a long drag, blowing the smoke out the window and ignoring her completely.

“Hey, Molls.”

She turned with a smile for Sebastian, although it faded slightly when she realized he’d reappeared without her notes. He’d taken the time to change out of his jumper and into a tight tee that accentuated his broad shoulders. Normally it would be enough to make her pulse speed up a bit, but the man in the window’s comment about trophies was echoing in the back of her mind.

“I feel super bad about this, but I seem to have misplaced your notes.” Sebastian looked adorably chagrined (although Molly couldn’t help but think the expression was a bit calculated). He waved a hand toward the hallway he’d come from. “You’re welcome to come back and wait in my room while I look some more.”

That was almost exactly what she wanted, wasn’t it?

She bit at her lower lip and glanced toward the window. The man was still staring outside, but Molly got the impression that he was paying attention to their conversation. Sebastian followed her gaze and grimaced. 

“Sherlock. How long have you been hanging about?” The tone was jovial, but there was a definite undercurrent of something mean coming from Sebastian. It made Molly uncomfortable.

Sherlock leaned out to stub out his cigarette against the exterior wall, then tossed the butt out the window. “Long enough.”

“Yeah, good for you. So, Molls?” Sebastian was all smiles again, clearly ready to pretend Sherlock didn’t exist. “My room?”

Molly shifted her weight from one foot to the other for a moment, then shook her head. “Actually, I’ve got a thing in a bit. If you could just bring them to class on Tuesday, that would be great.” She looked at Sherlock one more time and thought she saw him watching her from the corner of his eye. “So, I’ll see you later, then?”

Sebastian’s good mood had dimmed, but he called out a goodbye as she headed for the stairwell.

She silently berated herself as she walked across the quad. On the one hand, she had appreciated the warning. On the other, she’d never met Sherlock before and had no actual proof he had been telling the truth. It was obvious that there was no love lost between the two men, he could very well have been lying. 

And now she had a Lit test coming up next week and no notes to study from.

Molly thought she heard someone calling her name, and for a moment she foolishly hoped it might be Sebastian coming to tell her it had all been some weird misunderstanding. When she turned, however, it was Sherlock hurrying across the grass toward her. She hadn’t realized just how tall he was when he’d been sitting in the window. He was thinner than Sebastian, not as muscular, but still well built. And the way the sunlight hit his curls made her breath catch.

His long legs ate up the distance between them rather quickly. “Molly. It is Molly, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “But how did you know?”

“Sebastian called you Molls. Not really a common given name, so the odds were good it was a nickname of some sort. Molly seemed the most obvious choice.”

“Well, you guessed right.”

Sherlock frowned down at her. “I don’t guess. I deduce.”

“Okay.” She crossed her arms and waited for him to continue. He didn’t. “Right, well, I’ve got that thing I mentioned so . . .”

“No you don’t.” He seemed rather confident about that, and Molly was annoyed that he was right. “You just told Sebastian that so you could have an excuse to leave.”

The entire encounter, starting with the moment she’d first heard him speak in the dorm, was odd and Molly decided she’d had enough. “And now I’m telling you the same thing. Make of that what you will.” She turned on her heel and started to walk off.

A moment later she heard him fall into step at her side. He shortened his stride to better match her much smaller one. “I’ve offended you, haven’t I?”

“Offended? No. Made me feel uncomfortable and awkward? Yes. Was there a point to you following me, or did you just want to confirm you’d ‘deduced’ my name correctly?”

He frowned. “I do that a lot, I’m afraid. Put people off. I should apologize, I suppose.”

She noticed that he said he should, but he didn’t actually do it.

“Your Lit class Romance poets, you’re never going to get your notes back from him, you know.”

That was exactly what she’d been afraid of, but there had been a tiny bit of hope. “I figured as much.”

“Is it still being taught by Elliston?”

“Yeah.” Molly wondered if there was a point to his question. He didn’t really seem to be the small talk sort of type.

“I took it last session. I think I still have my notes, if you’d like to borrow them.” Sherlock didn’t seem to notice that she’d stopped walking. He made it several steps away before he turned and came back.

“Is that your way of trying to lure me back to your room to prove a point to Sebastian? He couldn’t get me back there, but you think you can?” Molly felt her temper stirring.

“No. No! I was going to offer to bring them by the library or the coffee shop.” He looked so offended that she’d thought to question his motives, Molly almost felt guilty.

Almost.

“Why?”

He shrugged and looked across the quad at a group of noisy students playing some sort of game with a ball. “Haven’t the foggiest.”

She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “All right. Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Sherlock looked oddly surprised, as if he’d been expecting her to tell him to bugger off. “Sixish, at the library? I’ve got some research I was hoping to do there tonight anyway.”

“I’ll stake out a table,” Molly agreed.

“Good. That’s . . . good. I’ll see you then.” 

She watched him walk away, a bemused smile on her lips. He was kind of cute when he wasn’t being a jerk. He definitely wasn’t dull. Maybe her day hadn’t been a total loss after all.


End file.
